Salvation: Part II

Juliana walks up to the sound device, and attempts to turn it on.

(OOC: You mind if I choose the music)

King-Quart looks at the Hologram again, reading it if there was anything else.

“Nah, just ask Thunderblast about me.”

Atop the walker, Facelift’s lab look pretty much the same. The wide tanks containing body parts were plugged into shallow sockets in the floor, and the operating tables were scattered between shelves of equipment and containers holding smaller body parts and components.

Shockwave and Topside look around the lab. The cyclop’s face was impossible to read, while the Autobot captain’s brow was furrowed.

“You know, alt-mode installations are my favorite operations,” Facelift muses as he picks up a bauble.


The machine hums to life.

OOC: I don’t mind.


IC:

There was nothing more that could be discerned; the glyphs talked almost exclusively of Primus and the Allspark, and little else.


Quasar smirks.

“Confident in the face of imminent death,” he observes. “You’ve got that going for you, at least.”

The scientist doesn’t take his eyes- nor his blaster- off Wildsong as he contacts Thunderblast.

“Your Excellency, it’s Quasar. I’ve apprehended an Autobot spy!”

“…What? What? I-… yes, Your Excellency…”

Juliana tapped the screen a few times, and started the music.

she then ran down to the doorway, and unlocked it. She chocked the door open, letting the music play into the streets

Epsilon shows Facelft the datacard Corona had given him, “This is the second alt mode I want to have. I want to be a triplechanger.” He said.

Song smirks mockingly.
“Confident in the face of imminently loosing your job. I respect that.”

The music echoes out into the cavern, causing those in earshot to turn their heads.


Facelift stifles an excited squeal.

“Oh, those are always fun to do!” he exclaims. “The more, the merrier, I say!”

He tries to snatch the datacard out of Epsilon’s hand.


Quasar, though humiliated, hides it well. The visor helped. He retracts his cannon.

“Yes, well…” he says, clearing his throat, “unfortunately for you, I am still the head scientist aboard the Vigilant, Wildsong. And it will take a lot of convincing on your part for me to allow an Autobot- current or former- access to this laboratory and its equipment. You may leave now.”

“I will not leave, as my quarters are not ready yet, and because Thunderblast sent me to kill my time here. In all seriousness, I understand that you don’t fully trust me, and I don’t really care that much to be honest, but can I at least show you the crude blueprints I made?”

Juliana leans out the front door with a smile. “The Antillian Sunrise is open for business!” She calls.

“No.” King-Quan shook his head, looking at Forcep. “There isn’t anything else.” He said.

Quasar scoffs.

“You brought blueprints, did you? How quaint. Very well; let’s see them.”


A few Autobots and neutrals drift into the Antillian Sunrise, fancying a drink to celebrate their departure from Planet Omega and the resumption of their voyage.


Forcep sighs.

“That’s a shame,” he remarks.

“Well, they are kinda built in. I downloaded them into my built-in computer and I update them from time to time.”
A few bits of armour retract on her lower right hand, revealing a small screen. She taps a few things on it, before six holographic screens form around them, depicting six different Protoform-ish boths. Some of them had areas encircled in red, with warnings that explained certain wrongly designed components, or even lack of components. None of the Protoforms had any alt-mode, tho they had a transformation cog and were able to scan a vehicle.

Quasar had to admit he was surprised- he hadn’t been anticipating anything extraordinary, and while this certainly wasn’t, it was still better than he had expected.

"I’ll be… he remarks. “You almost seem to know what you’re doing…”

“Unfortunately, yes.” King-Quan nods.

“I studied Cybertronian anatomy, the history of Transformer evolution and the techno-motorial schematics of the basic Transformer components for a long time now. I know what I am doing. I just have troubles with a few things. For one, I can’t figure some Combiner-specific things, like combining ports, although I am pretty sure I can just steal them from some dead bodies. Then I need the material needed to actually make the bodies, and six still living Sparks.”

Forcep buries himself in his work again. Not only were these new devices quite a worrying puzzle, but the medic and his staff had more than their fair share of wounded bots to get on the mend.


Quasar puts a hand to his chin.

“…Perhaps, we got off on the wrong foot,” he says. “Would you mind leaving me a copy of your notes, Wildsong?”

“Yes, I do mind. I will not risk you getting my life work and getting all the credit. If you want to help, you’ll do that only with my blueprints. No copies.”

Quasar chuckles.

“You think too lowly of us Decepticons, Wildsong,” he says.

“Yes, there are many of my colleagues that would happily… uh… dispose of you and take your work all for themselves, but I believe that this project had a better chance of succeeding if we work together. And to do that, I believe it’d be beneficial for me to have my own copy of these designs to work with.”

“It’s not about faction, it’s about the fact that I know you for less than half of hour, in which you also tried to kill me, by the way. I am not going to give these blueprints to somebody that I know for such a short amount of time. You want them? Proof me that you are actually interested in this project, and either provide me the metal or the Sparks.”